


In the shadow of your creator

by AndInThoseMoments



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M, Tony Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Daddy Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 04:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndInThoseMoments/pseuds/AndInThoseMoments
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony has liked Steve for a long time, and wants to make him happy.  But sometimes being friends with someone who is so blind to what you want gets too much - and Tony finds himself drinking to get through the party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the shadow of your creator

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Tony's drinking problems, a kiss against the wishes of one participant, and a lot of angst.

Tony didn't like parties. Or to be more accurate, Tony liked parties rather too much, which tended to make him self-conscious. Because he knew what he became when there was alcohol flowing freely, beautiful women smiling at him and the press waiting like jackals at the door. He'd seen enough photographs to know what he was like, even if he could never remember what had happened.

But when Steve suggested that they go out as a team, to the movie premier that they had been invited to, Tony had found himself agreeing. He couldn't focus on the fact it had been Fury that had suggested the trip first, or even the fact that there would be the rest of the team there. All he could think about was the fact that he and Steve would be out together.

He knew that his crush on Steve was pathetic. He could barely think whenever he found himself in the same room as the blond, and whilst he didn't want to be obsessed by someone who had never given him acknowledgement as more than a teammate, Steve had been special to him his entire life.

As a child, he had seen his father's collection of memorabilia, listened to stories of the war from aging men who were downing bottles of whisky with his father. He had learned that Steve Rogers was a hero. He'd been a hero to Tony when the boy was young, right until the night when his parents died. Alone and terrified, abandoned without hope of them coming back, Tony had begged Captain America to come and save him. 

And the hero hadn't come.

That thought even now made Tony's blood boil. Rationally, he knew that there was no way Steve could have known, nothing that he could have done to save him. Steve had been frozen beneath the sea, lost until one of Howard's probes would find him. But the Tony that had just lost everything, the wounded child that hid behind the alcohol and the meaningless sex, he still hated Steve.

That hatred was part of the reason why Tony had yet to make more than a flirtatious comment at Steve, even when his smiles were being returned, even when the soldier seemed to care about how he was even in the heat of battle. Tony wasn't ready for this to matter, for there to be more to Steve than the man who had abandoned him.

But the party was approaching, and Steve had asked him to come, and then asked if Tony would help him to get a suit. Steve would have been quite happy going to the event in his dress uniform, but the rest of the team had ruled that out, so it was down to Tony to take the man to a decent tailors, to make sure he wouldn't show them all up.

Steve stood there, seeming somehow too small for his body as he was measured by the men that had dressed Tony since he was a babe in arms. Tony refused to send Steve out in a suit that was less than perfect. Steve deserved the best, even if he didn't exactly take well to being a clothes horse.

Eventually the suit was purchased - the tailors were impressed, secretly confiding to Steve that they'd never had to outfit a triangle-shaped person before, shoes were bought and Tony had done all that he could to help Steve prepare. For the premier that certainly wasn't a date. Buying the suit wasn't a date either, even if Steve had stood closer than was strictly necessary on more than a couple of occasions.

It was just some friends out together, and that was fine. Tony tried to accept that, and even allowed Steve to come and sit in his workshop. The soldier alternated between sketching Tony at work and polishing his new shoes, until they shone even brighter than they had when purchased. Tony would have laughed at how earnest Steve was about that, but it was endearing and he didn't want him to stop.

He thanked Steve for the sketch when presented with it, and headed off to get ready, meeting up with the rest of the team in the entrance to the tower.

Bruce and Clint were lost causes as far as suits were concerned, Tony decided. Natasha was both stunning and deadly in a low cut long red dress, and he would have found her immensely attractive if not for the fact she scared him. Coulson looked smart, aside from the scruffy archer on his arm. Thor had apparently decided to wear Asgardian regalia, and Steve...

When Steve turned up, Tony felt his jaw physically drop.  
He was always shocked when he saw Steve in smart clothing - the guy looked amazing in anything, but the dress uniform or this suit sent Tony's mind racing. He nodded, quickly, glad that he just about had enough self-control not to make it awkward.

Steve meanwhile blushed and smiled at them all, his gaze lingering on Natasha.  
"You look beautiful Agent Romanoff."  
She nodded, smiling softly, and Tony was startled. He was pretty certain that if he'd said that, he would have been dead. But then, Steve was always an exception, to everyone. He led them to the waiting car, trying not to think about Steve.

It was hard not to think about him, when the blond sat beside him in the cinema, cuddling up closer as the film dragged on. But Tony made himself be professional, forced himself to ignore the soldier's presence. Tony thought he'd got the worst seat of the lot - Steve on one side being unnecessarily cuddly, and Coulson on the other - distracted by Clint, but certain to taze if Tony made too much fuss. This sucked.

The film slowly meandered towards a climax, and Tony started to look forwards to the after party. There would be alcohol there, at least, which he needed after this. It was unbearable. Alcohol had always helped him when things got too unbearable.

After the film, there were speeches to the media, and group photographs, and a dozen other things that Tony didn't have time for. Not right now. Not when Steve seemed overly keen to wrap an arm around his shoulder, or lean forwards so his chin rested on the top of Tony's head. Tony just wanted to get to the party.

When they arrived, Tony slipped away from the rest of the group. Clint was busy raiding the buffet table, Steve and Bruce had both been trapped by conversation, Natasha had gone off to be Natasha somewhere, and Thor was unobservant in crowds, too busy making new friends to consider the whereabouts of old ones. 

Tony headed straight to the bar. He'd feel better once he'd taken the edge of the pain off, blurred his thoughts so that Steve couldn't fill them as much as he currently did. The world was spinning, but that didn't bother him. He'd designed weapons more drunk than this. He tossed back another glass, grateful for the burn in his throat, and staggered slightly.

All he needed now was some vacuous blonde woman or other on his arm, and he was going to make the front pages again. Something at the back of his mind nagged, telling him that he shouldn't have got this drunk, but he didn't want to listen. He stumbled out towards the party, a thought slowly forming in the fog of his mind. He'd tell Steve how he felt, and he could blame it on the alcohol when the soldier reacted with disgust. 

Steve wouldn't hate him for being stupid when he was drunk. Well, he probably would, he was Captain America, but Tony couldn't let that stop him. He saw Steve through the crowd, and shoved his way closer, ignoring the mutters and the whispers, even the flash of camera bulbs. This was important.

Steve's arms wrapped around him, and he found himself being carried, out of the room and into a quiet corridor. There were a lot of things he wanted to say about that, but he couldn't think of them clearly enough. His feet met the ground and he nearly fell forwards, but a strong hand on his shoulder kept him upright. 

He looked up and stared into Steve's eyes, smirking a little.  
"Hey there soldier..."  
"Tony, I think you've had too much to drink. I think we should go home now, I'm sorry..." Steve let go of Tony's arm when he stopped swaying, and Tony took that as the sign to make his move, lunging forwards and wrapping his arms around Steve's shoulders. The soldier was momentarily frozen in shock at what was happening, and Tony took that chance as well, leaning up and pressing his lips against Steve's, hands sliding down to rest on his ass.

Steve stumbled backwards, away from him, but Tony didn't let go, following him, squeezing with his hands and trying to get his tongue into Steve's mouth. He tasted good.

Steve was trying to say something, but Tony was more interested in pressing close to him, one hand Steve’s up Tony's spine as the other continued to massage his ass, enjoying the feeling of Steve's body against him. He was smiling when Steve's hands wrapped around his shoulders.

"Tony." Steve's grip on Tony's arms was painfully tight, as he bodily pushed him away. "Tony, stop. Please." At the last word, Steve's voice shook, and Tony looked up at him, seeing something close to fear in his eyes. The last few moments played themselves over in his head, and he tore himself from Steve's grasp, racing towards a trashcan. He fell to his knees as waves of nausea overtook him.

A strong hand landed on his shoulder, massaging as he shook, but he pushed it away, ducking out from beneath Steve's touch. He didn't deserve it, couldn't allow it right now. Steve was talking to him, but Tony couldn't process the words. The only one that he could just about make out was home. He nodded in answer to that, let Steve shepherd him back to the waiting car. 

Once he was home, he headed straight down to the workshop, and had Jarvis engage all the security possible. Then he curled up in the seat of one of the cars, and tried to get some sleep.

He woke several hours later, his head pounding and the room spinning. He hadn't felt this awful in a while, and when he remembered why he flinched. The party. Steve. Tony wasn't surprised that he had managed to ruin the best thing he had going for him in life, but he still wished it wasn't the case.

The others would hate him if Steve told them. He'd been an idiot. He wondered if they'd kick him out of his own home. Natasha at least would probably try. And he would deserve it. His head throbbed, and when Dummy wheeled over with a revolting green drink it prided itself on making, he grabbed it eagerly, nodding as he took a sip. He shouldn't nod, it made his head hurt worse.

He sat up slowly, looking around, and when he saw Steve sat by the glass he tensed. Steve didn't seem to realise that he was awake. As Tony crept closer, he saw that Steve was asleep. It was almost tempting to try and sneak out past him, but Steve being Steve, it was likely he'd wake at that. 

Tony needed to eat though, and the room wasn't spinning as badly as it had been before, so he silently opened the door and took a step outside.

Steve's head snapped up towards him as soon as Tony crossed the threshold. Tony jumped in shock, whimpering as the movement sent a jolt of pain through him, but Steve was on his feet in a second, his arms around the engineer. He guided Tony back into the workshop, sitting him on an old sofa, and sitting beside him, taking a hand in his.

"We need to talk about last night Tony."

Tony at that moment couldn't imagine a single worse thing to talk about than the preceding night, and that included what had happened in Afghanistan or the time he had nearly died. But Steve was using his determined 'I am leader of this team and somehow I will make you listen to me' voice, and Tony didn't have the heart to argue with him about it.

"I was an idiot. I'm sorry. If you want me to leave... I've got other houses. I can give you space for a while if you need it, or I can go forever. I wasn't thinking right, and I misread the signals and I'm sorry."

Steve squeezed his hand.  
"No one's asking you to leave Tony. You just frightened me, that's all." Steve tried to explain, and Tony felt worthless. He had managed to mess up so badly he'd scared Captain America. There was no answer he could give, nothing he could say in response. This was his fault, and he knew it. 

Steve's hand was still on his.  
"I like you Tony." Steve explained softly. "I really like you. But I don't like who you are when you drink any more than you do. You are better than that Tony, and you need to accept that."

Tony shrugged, and Steve still hadn't moved his hand.  
"You're better than that. I know what alcohol can do-"  
"You don't know anything. You can't even get drunk." Tony spat, and that had the effect he wanted. Steve's hand moved off of his. Tony wished it didn't leave him feeling so empty.

"No. I can't get drunk. But I've been around people who can. I was around your father when he was drunk, and I know you're better than that."  
"You don't know anything about him drinking." Tony snarled, wishing that he could make himself stop talking. "I did. I saw him there night after night, empty bottles in his hand, drowning in guilt because he couldn't find you. I saw him care more about those bottles, those memories, than he ever did about his son."

"I saw Howard drunk too." Steve answered, looking away from Tony now, almost ashamed. "He got drunk at a party, tried to kiss me just like you did. But like I said, you're better than that."

Tony flinched. Of course this was about Howard. Everything always was. He'd lived his entire life in his father's shadow. Howard had made him, given him everything, and he couldn't even make his own mistakes. He just echoed his father's.

Tony's thoughts were still whirring. He always did think too fast for his own good. Something was nagging at the back of his mind, and it didn't take him long to realise what.

"Is it even me you see when you talk to me Steve? Or are you just seeing Howard..." He could see his words were hurting the blond but he didn't care. Maybe if Steve was hurt enough, he'd leave him alone next time. He'd stop with whatever it was he was doing, and just leave Tony. That would be better.

"I see you." Steve's eyes looked pained, but he was holding Tony's gaze, and didn't look afraid. "I see you. I see my friend, someone I care about. I saw Howard when we met. But not any more..." His hand reached out for Tony's, his fingers interlacing with the genius’s own.

"I'm just something Howard made." Tony muttered. Steve almost laughed, but there was no cruelty there. Nothing mean, just amusement.  
"I'm what Howard made, even more than you are Tony..." Steve pointed out, but he didn't sound angry. Just patient, just gentle. "I know you can feel him, that his memories haunt you. But you can't let him win."

"He's already won." Tony muttered, glaring down at the floor.  
"Only if you let him." Steve's fingers rubbed against Tony's shoulder, in an attempt to calm him. It wasn't particularly calming. But Tony lacked the words to explain that. 

"I let him. I scared you."  
"You scared me because you were drunk, you didn't know what you were doing, and I didn't want to be doing that when you weren't aware."

Tony looked up at him, meeting his eyes with hope for the first time since the conversation began. He swallowed, trying to work out what to say, then spoke softly.  
"Because I wasn't aware?"

Steve nodded, and leaned in, brushing his lips over Tony's cheek, squeezing his hand. He pulled away, and smiled at him.   
"Yeh. I don't like who you are when you drink Tony. I like who you are when you're yourself."

Tony shrugged, but he didn't actively argue with him. He was still busy trying to process what Steve had said. It didn't make any sense, but Steve wasn't the type to lie. He swallowed and nodded quickly, trying to convince himself he had misunderstood somehow. 

"Steve?" He questioned.  
"I like you Tony. You, not Howard..." Steve laughed slightly, and for a moment something close to bitterness glinted in his eyes. "Your father was a great man Tony. I know you've heard that before. I know you were brought up hearing that. What...what most people don't mention is that... he wasn't a very good one. But you are both."

Tony nodded. It was a simple way to think about it to some extent. His father had been a genius, a war hero, and so many other things, but he wasn't a good person, or a good father. Tony doubted that he could do better, but at the same time he was sure he would struggle to do worse. 

Steve rested a hand on his shoulder for a moment, squeezing, acting like a leader on a battlefield almost. Tony would have been amused if it wasn't for the fact he still felt sick. The weight of Steve's hand though, that was taking the sickness away. He nodded slowly.

"I like you too Steve." He muttered, voice shaking slightly. It was probably one of the hardest things he had ever had to say. But he waited to see how he would respond. Steve's arms wrapped around him and he nuzzled closer, stroking his fingers through Tony's hair.

Tony ducked out from the hug, and instead leaned up to brush his lips over Steve's for a moment.  
"I'm not drunk now."

Steve shook his head in agreement, leaning in to mirror the kiss. They rested against each other for a few moments, before Tony got up, beckoning for Steve to follow him. Steve looked apprehensive, but followed. Tony headed up to his office, which he rarely used, and picked up a photograph on the desk, of him and his father working on a motorcycle. He considered just pushing it face down on the desk, but a moment later he moved, heading to one of the bookshelves that lined the wall and putting it there, before picking up a photograph of the team that was languishing on the wooden shelf.

He wiped off the dust, placed it on the desk, and then leaned in for another kiss, smiling at Steve.   
"Thanks." He muttered, blushing when he realised how proudly Steve was smiling at him.


End file.
